


Dancing in the Dark

by Crystalshard



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9506735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard
Summary: 'The Avengers' is a new Broadway show, and dancers Tony and Bucky are rehearsing like crazy with the rest of the cast to be ready for opening night. However, when a man tries to follow Natasha home, they realize that their production may be being used to cover up something illegal . . .





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a WinterIron mini-bang, and then I promptly got attacked by a case of anxiety and never managed to coordinate posting it. To my artists: I am so, so sorry. Please feel free to post the artwork, if you haven't already.

The soft strains of a waltz flowed into Tony's ears and down through his toes, the music less heard than felt after so many years of dancing. He guided Pepper around the floor, smoothly avoiding the other five couples as he listened out for the key change that would signal - yes, there. Tony whirled Pepper over to their assigned mark on the practice floor, and they came to rest just as the music cut off with pre-determined abruptness. 

"Okay!" said their choreographer, in a voice used to command. "Better. Tony, Pepper, Bucky, Nat, you're all exactly where you should be. Good job, but Nat, please try to remember this isn't your kickboxing class when you go for the extensions. Clint, you got into place in time, but if it wasn't for Kate you'd have missed the key change." 

Behind Tony, Clint muttered, "Should call _him_ Hawkeye, how the hell did he spot that while he was dancing?" 

"Steve, Sharon," Rhodey continued, pretending not to hear. "Good job with the dancing, but next time can you please _try_ to look interested in each other? The audience isn't going to believe an epic romance if the overtones are more 'mission briefing' than 'sweet nothings', and opening night is in less than two weeks." 

"Sorry," chorused the pair. Tony felt a brief surge of sympathy for them - the two had never been anything but platonic, even when they'd tried dating for a brief week. 

"Try taking Rhodey and Carol as an example, they're the only actual dance _couple_ we've got," Natasha suggested, brushing an escaped curl of red hair away from her face. A poorly-suppressed grin crept over Rhodey's face, while Carol - Rhodey's dance partner-in-crime, fellow choreographer, and lover - laughed loud and shamelessly. 

Louder still, however, was Thor's laughter. He and his partner Sif were on a year's break from the dance troupe his father ran in Norway, and he'd auditioned for the Broadway show out of sheer curiosity. Apparently, he'd liked the idea of a superhero-themed show. 

"And you, Thor," Rhodey said with an edge that cut through the laughter, "I appreciate your . . . exuberance, but I noticed people having to duck out of your way several times. You need to keep a better eye out for the other people on stage." 

Thor did, at least, have the decency to look properly chastised. "Forgive me. I shall endeavour to improve." 

"Good. Now, once more from the top and we can all go home. Don't forget, this is the climactic scene where Ultra-Man crashes the party and is finally defeated, so you'll need to be looking upstage when the music stops." 

Glancing at Pepper, Tony met her eyeroll with one of his own, and they took their places once more. 

* * *

Rehearsal might be over, but New York was still awake. Tony and Bucky dodged a rowdy group of partygoers and Bucky laughed as Tony stumbled into him. "If Pepper could see you now," he teased. "Grace and timing and falling over your own feet." 

Tony took advantage of his proximity to elbow Bucky in the side. "Pepper's known me longer than you have, Buckster, there is nothing about me that would surprise her." 

Bucky grinned back at Tony. "Oh, I bet she'd be surprised if she saw us later tonight when . . ." 

Tony snorted. "Nope. Not even that. Or do you not remember that time in the dressing room after rehearsal that day?"

"Point," Bucky acknowledged with a wince. "Did we ever find out what she wanted?" 

It had been early in their relationship, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and they'd stayed behind in the male dancers' dressing room after rehearsal. Pepper had found them half naked, with Bucky kneeling between Tony's legs and unzipping his pants. She'd turned around and walked away without a word, but the mood had been broken and they'd sheepishly redressed themselves.

"Yeah," Tony said in answer, thinking back on it. "She wanted to know if we'd seen Sif's headband from the Warrior Dance scene. I think the agency guy who runs Wardrobe - what's his name, Phil? - was more annoyed than Sif." 

"She ever find it?" They turned the corner into a quieter residential area, where their apartment building glittered demurely above the city streets. 

"Yeah, it turned up again the next day. One of the stage hands had got a little too efficient and handed it in to the props department." 

Bucky laughed, leaning into Tony's shoulder as they walked through the main entrance to their building, and Tony's couldn't help leaning back into the offered warmth and touch. They stayed that way all through the elevator ride up to the floor and all the way into their spacious apartment. 

* * *

The muffled sound of one of the lead actors giving a speech from the stage filtered through to the womens' dressing room, the sound like the ticking of a clock in Natasha's ears as she rummaged through the box where the women kept all their costume jewellery. 

"Has anyone seen my necklace?" she asked Sif and Kate, the former of whom was fixing her hair for the upcoming ballroom scene and the other who was reapplying her lipstick. 

Kate set down her lipstick and shook her head. "Sorry, no. Can you go without it? It's just dress rehearsal." 

From over by one of the mirrors, Sif snorted. "The director would have her head. Use one of the spares," she suggested. "The rest of us already have ours on." 

Natasha nodded. It was a good thought, but she was almost certain that there weren't any other black and red ones, her and Bucky's 'theme' color. Perhaps she could get away with purple - _oh_. 

Imitation diamond and ruby, the fake diamond a teardrop the size of her thumbnail suspended in gold-plate (or more likely, brass) filligree. More Tony and Pepper's colours, but the winking red stones fitted with her costume. It would work. 

Quickly, Natasha fastened it around her neck, and then it was time for them to join their waiting dance partners in the wings. 

* * *

"Where were you?" Bucky whispered as she took his hand, just as their musical cue swept them in from the wings with the other five couples. 

"Wardrobe malfunction," she whispered back, trusting to the music and their relative positioning to hide her words. They turned to circle around Steve, who was declaiming his lines with something approaching real conviction, and who was - finally - looking at Sharon with fondness instead of looking constipated. "I'll tell you later." 

"Forget it," Bucky breathed back, twirling her skillfully and guiding her to the side. The key changed once more, and they all looked upstage as the villainous Ultra-Man leapt onstage with a crash of chords. 

* * *

Sweat-soaked but elated, Natasha dropped ungracefully into a chair in the dressing-room and reached for a wipe to remove her makeup. There had only been a few people in the audience - a couple of Clint's friends, Thor's brother, Thor's girlfriend, Pepper's friend Happy, some people who knew the backstage crew - but the applause had worked its usual magic anyway. 

"Whoa, Maria Hill from props is _efficient_ ," Kate said from behind her. "She must have heard you'd lost your necklace, look at all the extras!" 

Every woman in the room turned to look at the gleam of cheap metal and glass hanging from Kate's fingers in a glittering tangle. Pepper cooed and slipped her ballgown into the costume rack with surprising alacrity, moving over to look through the new ones. 

"Ohhh, this is pretty," Pepper said, holding up a fake-ruby necklace in a gold setting. "What do you think, should I use this one instead?" 

"Go for it," Sharon encouraged. "Maria wouldn't have put them there if Director Fury hadn't agreed they were wearable. Is there anything in sapphire and silver in there?" 

"Or ruby and silver?" Sif requested as she unpinned her hair.

Before Kate could answer, the voice of their runner, Peter, called from outside the door. "Director says he wants you on stage in ten minutes for a briefing." 

Carol muttered something uncomplimentary about directors who thought that they were in the military under her breath, to murmured agreement from the others. 

In the ensuing rush to get makeup-free and out of their costumes, Natasha forgot to remove her necklace. She only remembered when the cast and crew were filing off the stage, and Thor's brother Loki eeled his way through the crowd to compliment him and Sif on an excellent show. The conversation was audible in the background, and Natasha eavesdropped shamelessly as she pretended to hunt for a prop that she already knew was back in the dressing room. 

"Congratulations, brother." Loki's unctuous voice should have been charming, but there was a self-satisfied edge to it that made her skin crawl. "I see you have lost none of your talents. And Sif - as elegant as always." 

"Thank you, Loki." Sif's voice was distant, and Natasha's shoulders relaxed a little. She trusted her instincts, but sometimes it was good to have confirmation. 

"Aye, thank you, brother!" Thor, on the other hand, seemed genuinely delighted. "You must come to the opening night! I have reserved a ticket for you." 

"Nothing would please me more," Loki said, with every evidence of delight. "If you will forgive me, brother, I have a meeting to attend. Business waits for no man." 

"I wish you luck," Thor said, clapping a friendly hand on Loki's shoulder. 

Loki returned the gesture, then turned to leave at the same time as Natasha turned away from the set. They ended up face to face, and his eyes widened as they dipped down to where her breasts were revealed by her low-cut top. 

"My eyes are up here," she said dryly. 

His green eyes flicked up to hers, and she caught a flicker of - was that _surprise?_ \- in his eyes before the charming mask slid back over his features. "So they are, and very lovely eyes," he agreed. As it had before, the charm missed its mark by just a fraction. "You are an excellent dancer, Miss Romanov. I look forward to watching you perform." 

"Thank you," Natasha said, her tone sliding from _cool_ to _cold._ "Excuse me." 

The other girls had gone by the time she got back to the changing rooms, but one of them - probably Pepper, in her hyper-organized way - had packed her bag and left her jacket on the table next to it. Unsettled from the encounter with Loki, she grabbed her things and left the room. 

* * *

There was someone behind her. 

Natasha had spotted the man following her three blocks back, dressed blandly in jeans and a dark jacket. It was always possible that he'd just been heading in the same direction, so she'd stopped into a late-night grocery store. The man had followed her in, pretending to be interested in a newspaper. 

Now he was following her again, having abandoned the newspaper. Unfortunately, it seemed that even on Mondays, New York still socialized. A hen party took up the entire street, half-drunk women laughing and shouting risqué words to each other, the bride-to-be carried precariously on the shoulders of two of her stronger friends. For a moment, she was tempted to join in and be safe among the crowd, but they were going in the wrong direction and her stalker might re-target one of the women in the group. 

Natasha sighed and ducked into an alley. With a little luck, she'd be able to deal with the man quickly and still not be home much later than usual. The subway station wasn't far, and even at this time of night there were plenty of trains. 

She wasn't far down the back street when she heard the shuffling noise of the man trying to run quietly. She feigned obliviousness, heard the footsteps get louder, and then stepped aside just as he reached out for her. She grabbed his wrist as he went past and pulled it to her hip, setting her feet firmly on the floor and turning his forward momentum into centripetal force. He flew in a neat circle, feet leaving the floor as she swung him around with herself as the pivot point, then let him come to rest face-down on the dirt of a New York alley. Natasha still had hold of his hand, and she forced his arm into a vertical position, locking his elbow and grinding his shoulder into the ground. Pressing down on his hand, his wrist bent at an unnatural angle, and he yelped. 

"Why were you following me?" she growled, noting distantly that his feet were kicking. "Stay still, I have kickboxing and ballet training, which means I kick harder than a mule." 

Surprisingly, he stopped moving. "Necklace," he choked, sounding as though the words were being ripped from between gritted teeth. "Told me to get your necklace. Let you go. Ow! Said not to hurt you!" 

" _Who_ said?" Natasha demanded. 

"Dunno! It was dark, he was hooded! Said it was a prop, you'd stolen it, he needed it back, he'd give me the money after I came back! Said it'd be easy!" 

Thoughtfully, Natasha broke the man's elbow, ignoring his yell of pain. "If you ever come near me again, I won't stop at an elbow," she told him, annoyance leaking into her words as she stepped back. "Run along. I wouldn't bother complaining to the guy who hired you, if I were you." 

The man staggered to his feet and ran, cradling his injured arm. Odds were he was working alone, but if not . . . they might be staking out her apartment. She needed to go somewhere else, somewhere safe, and the closest place that answered that description wasn't far away. 

* * * 

Tony stirred, the sound of the entry buzzer loud in his ears. "Did you order pizza?" he mumbled into the warm skin lying next to him. 

Bucky made a noise that suggested he was only half awake, and then the nice warm shoulder Tony had been nuzzling against in his sleep disappeared as Bucky sat up. "Don't think so. Wanna go see who it is?" 

Tony made a complaining noise into his pillow, then reluctantly slid out of bed. "Next time, you can wear the pajamas and I'll stay naked," he threatened, his night-adjusted eyes having no difficulty finding their bedroom door. 

"Best boyfriend," Bucky praised, flopping back down into their nice warm bed.

The buzzer sounded again, and Tony made it to the videophone before the sound had stopped. "This had better - Natasha? Come on in." He pressed the button that would open the front door for her. "What happened?" 

His words were wasted on an empty doorway, as their friend and fellow dancer darted quickly out of sight, and presumably across the lobby and into the elevator. 

A rustle of fabric distracted Tony, and he turned to see his lover, all sleep-mussed hair and wide blue eyes, wrapping a bathrobe around himself. "Who was it?" 

"Natasha, and she looks stressed." A knocking sound came from outside, and Tony opened the door. 

Natasha slipped sideways through the door before it was even half open, and Bucky wrapped her up in a hug. She stayed tense until Tony closed and locked the door behind her, then relaxed with a sigh. 

"What's up, doll?" It was a pet name that only Bucky, as her dance partner of many years, could get away with. 

Natasha inhaled, looking both tired and irritated under the composure was clearly trying to maintain. "Can we sit down?" 

* * *

". . . and then I snapped his elbow and came here." 

Curled up in the big, over-padded armchair - one of the few pieces of furniture that Tony had brought with him from his parents' old house - Natasha looked almost childlike as she sipped the hot chocolate Bucky had made. She was still wearing her street clothes, her jacket zipped all the way up to her neck, and shivering even in the warmth of the apartment. Tony and Bucky were leaning shoulder-to-shoulder, having given up on sleep and dressed properly, and Tony could feel his lover's tension even through the minimal contact. He wrapped his fingers around his own mug of chocolate, craving the heat more than the taste or the sugar.

"That doesn't make sense," Bucky said with a frown. "Hill and Fury are fine with us taking things home, as long as we bring them back. And who'd go after you for a necklace they knew was fake?" 

Tony nodded. "And I saw your necklace hanging over the door handle in the men's bathroom - don't ask me how it got there, I handed it back to Hill - so it's not like you were even wearing it."

Natasha's face showed an instant of relief before she was frowning at them again. "That's the thing, I wasn't wearing my usual necklace, I lost it. I was wearing one of the spares." 

Then she drew the zipper of her jacket down, and Tony was lost in the ruby-and-gold glitter of memory.

* * *

_"Ready, sweetheart?" His mother looked up from her seat at her dressing table as he hovered at the entrance to his parents' bedroom. Tony trotted across the plush carpet towards her, his feet sinking into expensive wool without him paying the slightest bit of attention. After all, the rest of the mansion was just as luxurious, so why should he notice where he'd lived for all six years of his life? This was normal._

_"Yes, Mom," he said obediently, and stayed still as she picked up a comb to tidy his already neat hair._

_"Such a charmer you are, in your little suit," she said with a smile. "I hope you've saved a dance for your mother."_

_"Of course, Mom. I've been practising all day."_

_"Then I'll look forward to it," she declared, bending forward to ruin her previous efforts with a kiss to the top of his head. Maria Stark was already gowned for the evening in cream and dark red, gloves and purse sitting ready on her dressing table along with her favorite necklace. Her hair was immaculately coifed, and her makeup so subtle that Tony hadn't realized back then that she was wearing any at all._

_"Maria, the guests have started arriving, we need to be down there to meet and mingle." Howard walked into the room, feet hitting the ground firmly enough to draw sound even from the well-padded carpet. He glanced at the boy standing next to his mother, eyebrows drawing into a look halfway between confusion and disapproval. "Tony? What's he doing here?"_

_Tony was saved from having to answer by his mom. "He wanted to see his mother all dressed up, of course," she said with a laugh, holding up her necklace box to Howard._

_"Huh. Maybe he's inherited some taste after all," Howard said with a chuckle, draping the elegant necklace around her throat and fastening it with deft engineer's fingers. "Because you are clearly the most beautiful woman in attendance tonight."_

_"Flatterer," Maria told him, eyes warm and happy. The sparkle in her eyes was echoed by the soft gleam of fine gold, the glitter of rubies and the fire of the diamond teardrop hanging low from her throat._

_"For you, always. Tony, run along, meet us downstairs in five minutes and don't be late. I have some people I want to introduce you to."_

* * * 

"That's not fake," were the first words Tony managed. He must have sounded as strangled as he felt, because both Bucky and Natasha looked at him with alarm. Tony swallowed dryly, sipped some hot chocolate to cover how stunned he must look, and promptly started coughing. 

Once the coughing fit was over, Tony managed to re-gather his scattered thoughts. "That's not . . . not fake. It was my mom's. I remember it from when I was a kid, and I know for a fact that it was never sold." 

Natasha's hand went to her throat, and she unfastened it quickly, a look of genuine shock on her face. "Here - I didn't know, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," Tony reassured her, accepting the necklace and pocketing it. "How could you have known?" 

"Nat, you said this was 'one of' the spares," Bucky said, voice distant in the way that meant he was working something out. 

Natasha's face changed again, reminding Tony of nothing so much as a wolf on the hunt. "There were a lot more spares after the rehearsal today. Kate noticed first, she's got eyes like a hawk. Do you think . . ." 

"Let's go. Now," Tony said, setting his hot chocolate aside and rolling to his feet. "Bruce will have a key." 

"The floor manager?" Bucky asked, curious. "Won't he get cranky being woken up this late?" 

"Nah." Tony shook his head even as he reached for his jacket. "He'll still be awake. Anyway, he owes me one." 

* * *

There were few things spookier than a dark theater. Abandoned theme parks, maybe, but that was about all Tony could think of. Actors tended to be a superstitious lot, and even though Tony was more of a dancer than an actor, he'd hung around them long enough for a few things to rub off. Ghost stories had been a fixture in theater life since before the Phantom of the Opera. 

In defiance of ghosts, Bucky promptly switched the lights on as they closed the stage door behind them. Bruce had, as predicted, lent them his key and the code to deactivate the alarm. He'd also refused to go with them, on the grounds that anything he didn't know about he wouldn't have to deny later. (And, Tony suspected, because his girlfriend on the other side of the country was on Skype. He honestly didn't know how Bruce and Betty managed, he'd hate being apart from Bucky.)

Somehow, the lights didn't make things any better. The silence gathered heavy on the shoulders of all three of them, making them move more quietly than they would have otherwise. Natasha led the way, skirting a costume rack that had been left in the corridor, and then froze. Tony and Bucky stilled as well, and then Tony heard what had made Natasha pause. 

The murmur of voices where no voices should be, and beneath that, the clink of metal. 

". . . should have been back by now. My client won't be happy if we're missing the centerpiece of the collection . . ." 

Apparently, Bucky had heard enough, as he shoved open the door and stormed into the room with a roar. There was a crashing noise, and an undignified yelp. 

Tony and Natasha followed him. Pinned to the floor, much as Natasha had done to her would-be assailant earlier, was a familiar figure with Bucky's boot on his neck. Beside the thief sprawled an unconscious man - one of the stage hands - and on the other side was an open backpack, the bottom covered with a guilty glitter of jewels and precious metals. 

"Loki," Natasha said, almost purring. "I should have guessed." 

"Please, don't hurt me," Loki begged. "I didn't have a choice. If I hadn't done what my client wanted, well . . . let's say that there would have been consequences." 

"There's consequences now," Bucky said, voice hard. 

"Yes, I realize that. Look, let me up and I'll tell you everything. I can't very well speak with my face mashed against the floor." 

Bucky hesitated for a moment, then let go and backed off. Loki simply sat up, leaning an elbow on one raised knee as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you. Look, I'd love to sit and chat, but I'm on a deadline." 

Tony had never seen anyone - with the possible exception of Natasha, or Pepper on a rampage - move that fast. One moment Loki was sitting on the floor - then next, he had grabbed the open bag and darted between Tony and Natasha. Loki was out of the door before even Natasha could react, although she was first out of the door. 

Loki shoved the costume rack into their path as he ran, and Tony watched with astonishment as Natasha vaulted it without even slowing. Not having that kind of gymnastic ability, Tony bulled through it, vaguely hoping that he hadn't torn any of the costumes. Agent Phil would be quietly disappointed, which was worse than being angry, and they had a thief to catch. 

Loki led them to the stage, having somehow swung the backpack into place during his run. Then he leaped up and grabbed one of the ropes that the stage hands used for raising and lowering the bigger pieces of scenery from the fly-loft. Looking up, Tony could see the city-glow of the night sky through a hole that Loki must have made to get in. 

A piece of scenery, half-hanging out of the loft already, trembled, and Tony's eyes followed the lines of the ropes. The 'hands - or, at least one of them - must have left it connected, and now it was about ready to drop. 

"Loki, come down! It's not safe, you'll . . ." 

"I know a lie when I hear one," Loki called back, still climbing like a squirrel. "I am an excellent climber, and . . ." 

What _and_ was, Tony would never know. The rope creaked, jerked, and Loki's hands ripped free. His fall was over before Tony could even blink, and then Bucky was pulling the still-conscious and groaning man away from the main stage. 

Freed of the extra weight, there was a groan somewhere up in the ceiling. From high up, the Training Gym backdrop slithered out of its usual position and fell right after the thief. It handed just short of Loki's feet, the deafening crash of the huge set-piece landing echoed by the splintering of wood as the old stage groaned and lost its battle with the shaky scenery. 

* * *

Hours later, after Loki and the stagehand had been arrested and everyone else had been interrogated by the police, the group stood mournfully around the shattered stage. 

"I must apologize for my brother," Thor said, grief muting his usual boom. "I promise you, I had no idea that he would commit such a crime. Whatever I can do to make reparations, I will." 

"Getting the stage fixed would be a good start," Kate said, shifting forward and then quickly stepping back as the staged creaked ominously.

"We'll get it fixed by opening night," Fury declared, patting Kate gently on the shoulder. "One way or another."

"But where will we practice?" Pepper, who looked distinctly unlike her usual self in crumpled clothes and no makeup, gestured to the damage. 

"There's got to be a hall or something we could rent, right?" Rhodey suggested, half wrapped around Carol as she patted his back consolingly. 

Tony slipped his fingers into his pocket and touched the necklace that Natasha had returned to him. He'd almost forgotten it was there. "I have a better idea," he said firmly. "There's a ballroom at my parents' old house. I still own it, haven't been there in years." Perhaps if he had, he'd have noticed the theft of his mother's jewelry. It wasn't only his mother's that Loki had stolen, of course, but still. 

"Your parents had a _ballroom_?" Sharon echoed. 

* * * 

"So," Bucky said, resting his chin on Tony's shoulders as he watched the army of cleaners remove twenty years of dust and dirt and white sheets from the ballroom, "why are we living in an apartment when you have this?" 

Tony leaned his head briefly against Bucky's. "Because this was my parents' place. That apartment, that's ours, and that's worth more to me than a mansion that's too big for just one or two people." 

Bucky hummed in his ear contentedly. "Yeah, okay. That works for me." 

Tony winced at the discordant jangle as the piano tuner got to work, but something in him was pleased to see the old place open up again. Pepper was here somewhere, probably keeping a sharp eye on the cleaning efforts for the rest of the first floor, and Natasha had said she'd probably turn up. Fury had come along too, ostensibly to inspect the space, but they'd lost him to the old garage beneath the house as soon as he'd spotted the silhouette of the classic Shelby Cobra under its tarp. Tony wished him luck, and took comfort in knowing that the keys to the garage were securely in his pocket. 

Speaking of pockets . . .

"That piano is hurting my ears," Natasha announced as she joined them. 

"It hadn't been tuned in a couple of decades, what do you expect?" Bucky told her, a grin on his face as he watched. 

Tony's hand closed around the necklace he'd been carrying around with him since they'd caught Loki, and pulled it out of his pocket. He examined it for a moment, then held it out to Natasha. "Here. You should have this. My mom would approve, she thought jewelry was meant for wearing, not hoarding. I already know it looks fantastic on you." 

"Tony - I can't - I -" 

"Yes you can," Tony insisted, taking her unresisting hand and depositing the necklace in it. "Wear it. Please. The other girls are getting one each as well, and you'd only threaten me with your kickboxing prowess if I left you out." 

Natasha's hand closed over it, a faint smile on her face. "True," she agreed. 

"Here, let me help you on with it," Bucky offered. 

Tony watched, smiling. Their little group was his family, and he was never going to have a wife to give these things to. Yes, he thought Maria would definitely approve.

Natasha's necklace sparkled around her throat as if it had always been meant to be there.


End file.
